"I am very sorry,--miss," I said sincerely. "Oh!--there ain't much to be sorry over. This ain't my island. Still,--girls don't much care about men watching them from behind places," she replied, with a tone of displeasure. "And I am sorry,--again," I answered. "Please forgive me, for I could hardly help it. I was lying here when I heard you sing. I became curious. When you landed, I intended making my presence known, but I said to myself just what you have said now:--'It is not my island.' However, I shall go now and leave you in possession." "Where is your boat?" "Didn't bring one with me." "How did you get here then?" Her blunt questioning was rather disconcerting. "Oh! I walked it," I answered lightly, with a grin. Her voice changed. "You're trying to be smart," she reprimanded. "Sorry," I said, in a tone of contrition, "for I am not a bit smart in spite of my trying. Well,--I swam across from the wharf over there." She looked up. "Being smart some more." "No!--it is true." She measured the distance from the island to the wharf with her eye. I remarked, some time ago, that her hair was of the darkest shade of brown. I was wrong;--there was a darker hue still, and that was in her eyes; while her skin was of that attractive combination, olive and pink. "Gee!--that was some swim. "How are you going to get back?" she continued, in open friendliness. "Swim!" "Ain't you tired?" "I was winded a bit when I got here, but I am all right again," I answered. "You're an Englishman?" "How did you guess it?" I asked, as if I were giving her credit for unearthing a great mystery. Before answering, she sat down on the grass, clasping her hands over her knees. I squatted a short distance from her. "Only Englishmen go swimming hereabouts in the morning." "Do you often stumble across stray, swimming Englishmen?" I asked in banter. "No!--but three summers ago there were some English people staying in that house at the wharf that's now closed up:--the one next Horsfal's, and they were in the water so much, they hardly gave the fish a chance. It was the worst year we ever had for fishing." I laughed, and she looked up in surprise. "Then we had an English surveyor staying with us for a month last year. He was crazy for the water. He went in for half an hour every morning and before his breakfast, too. You don't find the loggers or any of the settlers doing silly stunts like that. No, siree. "Guess you're a surveyor?" "No!" "Or maybe a gentleman up for shooting and fishing? Can't be though, for there ain't any launches in the Bay. Yes, you are, too, for I saw a launch in yesterday." "I hope I am always a gentleman," I said, "but I am not the kind of gentleman you mean. I have no launch and no money but what I can earn. I am the new man who is to look after Mr. Horsfal's Golden Crescent property. I shall be more or less of a common country storekeeper after to-day."